For the man you once told me about
by feathered moon wings
Summary: Two days after Lancelot's funeral, Percival just kept thinking about his lost friend and brother. But that day he had found a request, writen in a piece of paper, a request he would't even think of denying. "For my friend, for my brother, and for the man you once told me about."


He sighted heavily.

It had been two days since Lancelot's funeral. Of course, it was being hard for them all, going though what they were; loosing their brother in arms. But Percival couldn't help but feel a bottomless pit in his stomach; he had known the man for longer and desired to feel but a bit selfish about the case, pretending to himself that he hurt the most of the all. In any case, he didn't even want to imagine how Merlin was feeling at the moment; the months of his knighthood had proven to him how close the two of them had been. Always whispering to each other, giving the other knights secretive gazes, as if they knew the biggest secret one could ever posses.

_He remembers their playful smiles as they all sat around the fire after a long journey thought the forest, the sparkle in Merlin's eyes as if he was about to pull a prank on them._

_Percival looked once again to his bowl. It always made him wonder if they had put something in his soup, but as every time, his meal was as fine as it could've been._

_The big knight looked up at them; they were once again talking in hushed voices._

He thought perhaps that the servant was like this with others, but after asking Leon, the answer had been that he had never seen Merlin like that. They had a special relationship, like long lost brothers who had finally returned to each others arms.

Before coming to Camelot, Percival had heard the most wonderful things about Merlin, figuring out that he meant more to Lancelot than he cared to imagine.

"_He may not look like it…" The knight of dark locks said "But he's the bravest man you could ever hope to know. He would jump in front of every danger without a second thought, just for the sake of the ones he care… sometimes for ones he doesn't even know…"_

"_You seem very fond of him." Percival said with a soft smile._

_Lancelot chuckled "I am. Though I haven't known him for long…" They were silent for a moment, the only sounds of the night being their cracking fire and the singing crickets._

"_My father used to say that you can spend 10 years at a man's side and still view him like the person who just walked into the room; but you can spend five minutes with another, and you'll feel like you've know him for all your life." The blond quoted._

"_Your father was sure a wise man." Lancelot said with honesty "Anyway… just you wait and met him… You'll know what I'm talking about."_

_Percival nodded with a smile, he felt like he already liked this boy._

The knight sat down on his bed, sweat running across his brow. It had been a hard training morning and Arthur just wasn't in the mood to feel pity for his overworked knights.

Just that day he had remembered the little pouch in his travelling pack. With everything that had happened, he hadn't had the opportunity to look at the rocks he had gathered in their way to stop the Dorcha.

Lancelot and the others had always laughed at his odd hobby, he just couldn't help himself. Along the journey, Percival like to pick stones that seemed interesting; when he got back, he would take the time to look at them and decide which he would keep and which he would not.

Once, Merlin had been kind enough to ask why he did it; he had answered the boy that it had been a trait he had pick from his mother. He could clearly remember how she would take him to the river for early walks, crouching beside the riverbed to show him just how pretty the stones where

"_Look Percival! Just look at that stone in the middle of the water! Look at the colors. Isn't it pretty?" Asked the young woman, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. Her desire for the stone was so obvious to the little boy of blond locks, that he couldn't deny his beautiful mother the small pleasure._

"_P-Percy!" She said stunned as her boy dived into the water "Percy! What are you doing?" She asked her boy with concern, watching as he skilfully swam beneath the top. Not long after, retuning to the shore._

"_I brought you the stone mommy!" He exclaimed with a childish smile, proud at his doings. "I know how much you like to keep 'em, so I brought it for you." The boy, who happened to be very big for his age, opened his palm to revile a smooth river-rock of a cobalt blue._

"_My dear angel." Whispered the woman, hugging her child tightly, damming his soaked cloths "My beautiful boy…" _

Percival searched for his bag, still sitting on his bed, and as he found it he took out the small brown pouch. With another heavy sigh, he placed the contents over his blanket.

"Hmm?" He wondered at the sight of a folded paper amongst the colourful and shaped stones.

The muscular man unfolded the thing with his bulky hands, curios of how could such a thing end between his stuff.

"Percival, mate!" Gwaine stormed into the room like he owned the place, he always did "I was wondering if you'd like a nice, cool, tankard of… Percy?" He said with an edge of concern in his tone. Crystal drops falling down his friend's face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Half-said half-sobbed the man as he wiped his checks clean "You always manage to have a perfect timing Sir Gwaine." He stated with a choked laugh.

"You sure you're fine." Asked the brunet knight softly, wise enough not to interfere. "I could always leave and…"

"No, no!" He rushed to say "A tankard of ale would be just great." He cleaned the remaining tear tracks as he stood up "Just great…"

From the corner of his eye Gwaine saw how Percival creased a white paper and hid it in his pocket. Once again kept quiet for the sake of his friend (But he would sure as hell bring it up once the big softy was better).

"Leads the way." Said the blond with a smile that seemed to be almost forced.

And as he closed the door of his room, he played over an over again the scene of himself opening the paper and reading the italics.

"_Look after him."_

_-L-_

And you could be sure as hell that he would.

"_I'll make sure of it Lancelot. I'll make sure of it brother."_

And with that last thought he went to drown his sorrows in mead, for he had once again lost a member of his family, and that wouldn't happen again. _Never again._

**Abril: Hello everybody! Here is my first fan fiction of 'Merlin', lets hope it won't be the last. I beg of you, please pardon my spelling and grammar if there's anything wrong, my mother language isn't english.**

**Questions? Comments? You just shoot!**


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